Ardent Argent
by Ariaeris
Summary: Locked in a silver-gilded cage, the emerald-eyed seer manipulates the course of the future, unaware of just how far a stubborn, love-driven werewolf will go to save the one he adores. For Kamerreon's Rare Slash Pairing Alphabet Challenge. Fenrir/Harry.
1. By the Eyes of the Not So Blind

_**Ardent Argent**_

_Chapter 1: By the Eyes of the Not-So-Blind_

_There are two kinds of light--the glow that illuminates, and the glare that obscures._

_- James Thurber_

* * *

"But why do you have to watch over the seer, Fenrir?"

Fenrir did not stop in his strides, though the other werewolf's question repeated itself endlessly in his mind. Why was he going to protect some weak man that had never been seen before? The Dark Lord Voldemort had requested of him to do so, but he owed no debt to the man, nor did the wizard have any purchase over him. No, he was not required by any means to protect a single man, but...

"Aren't you interested, Garm?" Fenrir asked, peering over his shoulder. The younger wolf's eyes were curtained by his dark hair, but he could clearly see the wariness that lingered in those orbs. "Supposedly, no one has ever seen this seer; Voldemort has kept him locked away his entire life in a gilded cage, never allowing him contact with the world around him. It's a miracle we are even aware of his existence."

"Especially so, considering how guardedly the Dark Lord keeps this secret," Garm agreed quietly, cupping his chin with his hand. "I still don't understand why he would request you to be the seer's guard though."

Fenrir laughed harshly. "Who knows what goes on in that man's mind? As long as it's interesting for me though, I'll go along with whatever he is planning." Fenrir grinned, a blood-lusty look in his eye. "After all, being in Voldemort's good favor is never a bad thing."

"If you continue to address the Dark Lord so colloquially, then you will never be in his favor," Garm reprimanded. Fenrir snorted contemptuously.

"Don't be such a weakling, Garm," Fenrir sneered. "You almost sound domesticated."

Garm's dark eyes flared viciously, and Fenrir nodded to himself. Seems like there was one less broken wolf in the world.

"We're here," Garm announced, and Fenrir almost chuckled. The pup needed to learn how to be a little less ostentatious; no one could have mistaken where their path had led them.

The silver-wrought gates stretched from floor to ceiling and from wall to wall, separating the outside world from the seer's domain. No one save Voldemort himself had passed through these gates and his seer had remained within the partitioned area ever since his first year of birth, when the Dark Lord carried him through with his robes still stained red from one of his previous victim's blood. A crescent moon lay in the center of the gates, the infamous seer's symbol that Voldemort had adopted as his own. Almost instinctively, Fenrir paid respect to the great matron, even if it was represented in a weakened form.

"How are we supposed to get it?" Garm asked, looking at Fenrir curiously. The older wolf reached into the pocket of his robe, withdrawing a long leather glove.

"Did you think that Voldemort sent us here unprepared?" Fenrir asked sarcastically, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt and pulling on the glove. The black piece of leather stretched nearly up to his elbow and as Fenrir flexed his arm, it pushed uncomfortably against his claws. "This will do."

Fenrir strode up to the gates, staring unflinchingly at the crescent moon lock. He wondered for a second if he was supposed to announce their presence before brushing the thought aside. If this seer was as good as they said then he should have prepared for them already.

He grabbed the crescent moon in his gloved hand and, with a mighty shove, threw the gates opened. They crashed against the stone walls of the hall with a loud bang that made Garm jump and Fenrir grin; nothing like making an entrance.

"Couldn't you have just opened the doors?" Garm asked weakly, grinning sheepishly when Fenrir glanced at him dispassionately.

"Why would I ever do that?" Fenrir replied, shaking his head mournfully. Pups these days.

"It's just that..." Fenrir tuned him out as he begun forward once more, paying no notice as he crossed into the hallowed halls of the seer. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing momentous about this occasion. He was merely collecting the seer and protecting him for the next few days until he could drop him off with Voldemort. In and out; it was practically a delivery, all things considered.

Fenrir tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. Unfailingly, his eyes were drawn to where he knew the moon was at the moment. It would be only a half-moon tonight but soon, very soon, he and his pack would be able to run free under their mother's light.

"What do you think the seer will look like?" Garm asked, and Fenrir stopped walking long enough to bat him over the head lightly.

"You ask too many questions," Fenrir said, thinking back to the three seers he had met in his long life. Seers were rare beings, coveted ones too, because being able to see the future (or the past, or the present, or the flow of possibilities and potentialities) was a gift tantamount to absolute power. It was well known that if one had a seer in their possession, then they were nigh unconquerable. It was a dangerous thing to announce that one owned a seer though, as many would go to any length to procure one for themselves. Even Voldemort, who was quickly becoming a Dark Lord on a scale not seen for many years, was wary of boasting of his prized treasure, for fear of it being taken away from him by someone able to slip under the seer's notice. It was rare for such individuals to exist though, for the stronger a seer was the less chance there was of a person being Unwoven, but as always, even the slights chance of defeat is dangerous.

"Still, it is a valid question!" Garm argued, and Fenrir huffed irritably.

"In what way?" Fenrir questioned. "He will probably be an emaciated wreck of a being kept alive by magical support; many seers get lost in their own visions but are kept alive so that wizards can force themselves into their minds and see what they have seen and still see in their insanity."

Garm was pale as he asked his next question. "Do you really think the Dark Lord treats the seer like that? I've heard it said that he treasures the seer very highly!"

"Rumors, rumors, rumors," Fenrir muttered, shaking his head with a frown. "I have heard the same man speak of both the seer's radiant locks and his curtain of midnight hair. Let this be a lesson to you, Garmr: never place your trust wholly into the words of a gossipmonger."

"Yes, Alpha Fenrir," Garm murmured, chastened by the use of his true name.

_"Wise words from a man wise enough to play the fool in a court of fools."_

"Who's there!?" Fenrir exclaimed, stepping in front of his charge. The voice that had seemed to speak from everywhere and nowhere laughed lightly.

_"Only me, and you, and you."_

"Who are you?" Fenrir clarified, backing up as watched the hallway they were in with careful eyes. He couldn't see the tell-tale shimmer of a glamour, and he couldn't smell anything trying to disguise their presence, so where was the voice coming from?

_"I am many things, one of which is a seer."_

"The seer!" Garm breathed in awe, and Fenrir tensed, his thoughts racing. Was this Legilimency? No, his Occlumency was satisfactory enough to prevent that. Telepathy could be ruled out as well for the same reason, but...

_"With such an analytical mind, how could anyone perceive you to be a mindless beast? Truly, you are well-deserving of your title."_

"You don't need to be strong of mind to be an Alpha, seer," Fenrir called out as he inched forward, Garm right behind him. He could see just a few yards ahead where the hallway opened up into a large room.

_"I wasn't talking about Alphas, Vánagandr."_

Fenrir froze as the weight of his title hit him like a tidal wave. Though it was not his true name, there was power in knowing someone's title; power that the seer now wielded.

"Fenrir?" Garm asked, voice shaking slightly. Fenrir shook his head silently, his silver hair swaying with the gesture, trying to tell the younger wolf somehow to not draw the seer's attention to himself.

_"Fenrisúlfr, Garmr, do not hesitate. Come to my side; no harm shall befall you there."_

Fenrir cursed quietly as he felt his control of his body slip form his grasp at the seer's command. Garm whimpered slightly, and Fenrir wished that he could comfort the pup, but he had no will of his own to do so.

As soon as they left the dark hallway, they were struck with the beauty of the room they had entered into. The floor was charmed to look like a meadow; soft grass and damp earth crunched underfoot and pale white lilies and roses danced in a breeze that they could not feel. The floor gently sloped up until it reached the center of the room, where a stone dais sat, covered in silken sheets that flowed to the earthy ground. Gossamer curtains were draped from the ceiling of the large room and hid the dais from sight, though their sharp eyes could see a shadow that lay on it. The most beautiful thing about the room though was the ray of soft moonlight that shone down on the dais from a glass window on the ceiling, making the entire scene glow ethereally.

The room was suddenly lit up radiantly as a cloud covering the moon passed and the ray of moonlight's intensity became almost too much to bear. The lilies and the roses danced more furiously to a beat that they could not hear, their graceful swaying intermixed with hypnotizing undulations and the curtains glowed as if lit from within. They could see now with the new light the figure on the dais in greater clarity.

The first thing the noticed was the man's long hair, darker than black and seeming to absorb the moonlight surrounding him. It tumbled around him as he sat on the dais in ringlets and curls, long enough to almost serve as blanket and contrasting with his pale skin. He wore thin, white clothes that, they noticed as they were drawn closer were merely extensions of the curtains surrounding his resting place, roped around him and tying him in place. His eyes stared unceasingly at the window above him, not flickering once as they stopped just outside the dais, his back to them.

All was silent, as if the world was taking a breath, before the seer opened his mouth to speak.

"If you would allow me one moment, Fenrisúlfr, Garmr, then it would be most appreciated." Not waiting for their response (And why would he, Fenrir thought absent-mindedly. He already knew how they would react to his request), the seer conjured a thin dagger in his right hand. The two werewolves tensed as the smelt the dangerous scent of silver, but the seer merely bent back, arching his back until they could almost see his forehead before throwing the dagger straight up into the air. The world paused once more as it reached its apex and Fenrir rushed forward as he realized what was about to happen.

Just as he reached the seer and grabbed his shoulder, the knife fell, striking a glancing blow against his wrist and falling safely away from the seer. His skin sizzled as the silver touched him and he barely managed to suppress a howl of pain. He could hear Garm cry out his name and every instinct in his body was telling him to cleanse his wound, but he was frozen in place, held by the alluring, all-knowing emerald eyes of the seer.

The seer smiled thinly as he grabbed Fenrir's wrist, fingertips lightly touching the wound.

"This will scar," the seer whispered, and Fenrir was entranced. In a move too quick to see, the seer grabbed the werewolf's neck in a tight grip, choking him. "But that will be the least of your worries, Fenrisúlfr."

* * *

And so we begin! Right into the action, not delay in the story line, straight and to the point. For my long time readers, this must be quite the odd experience, considering that you usually have to slog through tons of author's notes before you even get to the main story. I'm making a concentrated effort to cut down on those, hopefully streamlining the reading process.

In any case, this story is a response to my beloved Kamerreon's rare pairings request. Kamerreon had a whole alphabet of Harry-slash pairings that she put on her profile and people chose from the numerous men (I think there was two to three men per letter that you could choose from) to write a oneshot about. Now, obviously, this is not a oneshot, but that should be okay, because Kamerreon is the last person I can think of who would try and _limit _a person's creative muses (aka, plunnies, the most deadly beings this side of the Internet). I was lucky enough to be given the two men I wanted (Fenrir and James), so be on the lookout for me juggling this story, a James/Harry oneshot, Inexorable Inevitability, A Moment of Mercy, and a few other projects that I'm trying to wrap up. And to think, I already know that none of them will be finished by the end of the year...

Let's not end this on a depressing note though! I want to end this on a happy one, so let's all cheer for an actually romantic Fenrir/Harry story from me!

Don't forget to review on your way out; everyone should know by now that I will love you forever if you do!

Ariaeris~

Ps: Yes, I know, lots of Norse mythology allusions. Wikipedia is your friend; God knows it has been mine.


	2. Bound and Spellbound

_**Ardent Argent**_

_Chapter 2: Bound and Spellbound_

_I was born not knowing and have had only a little time to change that here and there. _

**-** _Richard Feynman_

* * *

"So we'll go down this path, hmm?" The seer almost looked sad for a second before he ran a finger along the sizzling wound on Fenrir's arm. The werewolf jerked back as the wound began to close, the pain receding almost instantly, but the seer's grip on his neck remained surprisingly tight, keeping him in place.

"Path?" Garm asked hesitantly, torn between going to his Alpha's aid and staying where he was. Fenrir did not blame him; the heavy scent of magic surrounding the seer was putting him on edge and making him jumpy.

"Three crucial decisions were made today, decisions which would shape the course of the future." The seer stood, the gossamer curtains unraveling from his form and falling to lie on the dais. Fenrir respectfully averted his eyes, shifting to block Garm's view as he heard the younger werewolf's choked gasp. His nose wrinkled as he caught the scent of Garm's arousal, and he almost sighed in exasperation.

"The first one was decided by Tom," the seer continued, as if unbothered by his nakedness. "He needed to decide who he would send to retrieve me, and he chose you two."

"Why?" Garm asked, and Fenrir could almost imagine the blush that was staining his face. Damn overeager pups.

"Who knows?" The seer replied casually, and Fenrir frowned. Supposedly he would, but it seemed like the seer wasn't up to sharing that little tidbit of knowledge. "The second was made by both me and you two. To be precise, both of you needed to decide on whether or not you would come here and I needed to decide whether or not I would allow you to enter."

'So that's why Voldemort asked us to come,' Fenrir thought. 'He could have order anyone to come, but according to this guy, the Dark Lord needed someone who would decide of their own free will to retrieve the seer for him.'

"And the third?" Fenrir asked, repressing his wince as the hand around his neck flexed.

"That one," the seer said, levitating the silver dagger with a flick of his wrist. "Was decided by this."

"How would a dagger decide the future?" Garm inquired, and Fenrir could hear him inching forward to stand at his side.

"There were nineteen conceivable possibilities I foresaw when I threw this dagger into the air: it would hit me and Fenrisúlfr would not attempt to stop it, it would hit me and Fenrisúlfr would not reach me in time to stop it, it would hit me except for the fact that Fenrisúlfr stopped it with his body, those same three possibilities save for the fact that the dagger would not have hit me, those same six possibilities save for Garmr performing these actions, the original six actions but both of you would have performed these actions, and the final possibility, which was that the dagger would strike me in the skull and I would have died, regardless of any action or inaction on both your parts."

The seer smiled radiantly and Fenrir was shocked by the green-eyed man's carefree expression. "Thank goodness I had such an adept protector. I would have really been displeased if I had died here."

'Displeased!?' Fenrir thought, staring at the seer in bemusement. 'I would think that someone would be more than displeased at the possibility of dying.'

"Regardless, the possibilities have passed," the seer said, wrenching Fenrir from his thoughts. "Those three decisions: Tom's, yours and mine, and Chance's, have set us on a course that I have already foreseen and which we must now walk."

"You've read the future just by those three actions?" Garm asked in astonishment, and Fenrir admitted to himself that he was mildly impressed. The other seers he had seen had performed elaborate rituals to divine their province, but the young man before him had done it so simply and casually…

"Actually, I divined the future for every possible outcome," the seer admitted, looking up to stare at the moon out the ceiling's opening. "Every person in the world, their every decision and my acceptance or rejection of them, and how the dagger would fall; for every possibility I Saw."

"But, t-that must be…" Garm trailed off, staring at the seer in awe. Fenrir slowly turned to face the seer, ignoring the miles of pale skin that shone temptingly in the silver moonlight to catch his emerald gaze.

"Billions of potential futures," Fenrir finished, watching the slow curling of the seer's red lips as they curved into a smile.

"And of those billions, no, trillions, only one could occur." The seer reached out, tapping Fenrir's muscular chest, and the Alpha could feel his heart leap at the touch. "This one, which I have Seen and which we now walk."

"I can't… I can't imagine something like that," Garm confessed, shuffling his feet. The seer laughed lightly and the flowers surrounding the dais sparkled in merriment.

"Don't worry about it." The seer shook his head, his long hair dancing in the air. "Thanks to the strength of my gift, my mind has been altered to be able to understand the various paths the future can take. I'm still only human though; already, I have forgotten all my previous predictions, because those futures are no longer possible. All I can see before me is the future that was chosen and the branching paths from there."

"Why are you telling us all this?" Fenrir asked suddenly. The hand around his throat was drawn back, only for a slender arm to be thrown around his neck, pulling his head down until it was level with the seer's.

"Why?" The seer repeated in a hushed whisper, his green eyes growing cloudy. "Why not? After all, this future is set. No matter what I tell you now, no diverging route can be taken off from this path."

The seer released him and the tension of the moment broke. Sluggishly, Fenrir took a step back, shaking his head, feeling as if he had woken from a dream.

"Seer," Garm asked, shifting awkwardly, embarrassed that he had witnessed such an… intimate moment. "Could you please tell us your name so we know how to address you?"

Fenrir grit his teeth, resisting the urge to dope slap the ignorant youth. A seer was only to be addressed as such, and to ask the name of such a powerful being was idiotic. Names granted power after all, and no seer, nor any powerful being in fact, would give out their true names lightly.

"Harry," the seer said cheerfully, and Fenrir almost did a double take. What!? "Of course, that is merely an assumed name, but it will suffice for now."

"Oh," Garm sighed, looking down. The young werewolf soon perked up though, offering a hand to the seer, still blushing slightly at the seer's unclothed state. "The name is Garm."

"A pleasure," the see- Harry replied, shaking the werewolf's hand. He turned to Fenrir with an inquisitive look.

"What?" Fenrir grunted, not looking at either of his companions.

"So grumpy," Harry said, walking to stand in front of Fenrir, chest to chest. "What is your name?"

"You already know my name, seer," Fenrir said gruffly, resolutely ignoring how good the seer's slight body felt against his.

"Well, of course I do, but I didn't think that you would appreciate me going around and telling everyone your true name, Fenrisúlfr."

"Stop that," Fenrir growled, refusing to back down from the seer's taunts.

"Stop what?" Harry asked innocently, braiding a long lock of his hair absent-mindedly.

"Stop using that name."

"Well, I would, if you would give me your name."

"If you've Seen the future, then you should know it already, no?" Fenrir finally backed down, stepping away from the tempting seer before he gave him even more fuel to tease him though. The seer was relentless though, and he stepped forward off the dais until he was flush with the werewolf's side.

"I do, _Fenrir_, but it's polite to share one's name with another after the same courtesy has already been given." Harry peered up at him, a difficult feat considering the height difference between the two. "Don't tell me I need to give you lessons on basic etiquette, Fen."

"Don't call me that either," Fenrir ordered, groaning silently as he felt a migraine forming.

"I'll call you whatever I want until you give me your name," Harry shot back, turning to look at Garm over his shoulder. "Garm, could you get me one of my curtains please?"

"O-of course!" Garm replied, jogging back to the dais to scoop up an armful of the gossamer fabrics, handing it to Harry as he jogged back. Harry sighed as he draped the curtains around him and the werewolves blinked as they shifted until they resembled something that looked like robes.

"Is that better?" Harry asked, running a hand down his new, pristine clothes. "I knew I was making you both a bit uncomfortable, but I've never actually had any clothes. Do they look good?"

Fenrir chose not to respond in favor of staring at the seer's new outfit. The entire thing was white, blindingly white, and the contrast between it and his black hair was eye-catching. Fenrir couldn't tell where it began or ended thanks to a number of oddly placed ties and belts, but the long overcoat that Harry wore billowed gently in the same breeze that caused the flowers in the meadow to gently dance.

"That bad?" Harry asked, grinning slightly.

"That odd," Fenrir replied, shaking his head. "Come on; the journey back to the Dark Lord's headquarters is long enough with us dilly-dallying here any longer."

"Dilly-dallying?" Harry laughed, reaching down to pick a rose. "How old are you, Fenny?"

"Not as old as you seem to think," Fenrir grumbled.

"Well, thank goodness," Harry replied, gently breaking off the stem off a lily and adding it to his growing bouquet. "It would have been quite odd if the man I will fall in love with was a half-century older than me or so."

Fenrir froze, the seer's last sentence repeating itself endlessly in his mind. Faintly, he could hear Garm's spluttering at Harry's glib statement, but Fenrir only had eyes for the ivory-clad seer who was walking farther and farther away by the second, steadily making his way to the exit, every once in awhile bending down to retrieve a beautiful flower.

"Fenrir?" Garm asked hesitantly and Fenrir was pulled out of his shock.

"Coming, Garm, Fen-fen?" Harry asked, not looking back at the two werewolves as he continued on his way. "I thought you two were my bodyguards? I don't think you'll be able to defend me from way over there!"

Fenrir growled, his developing migraine reaching its peak. He gestured roughly towards the retreating seer, and the two werewolves rushed off after their subject.

Fall in love with the seer? As if.

* * *

Ah, Fenrir, if you only knew.

I'd just like to thank everyone who has reviewed, added this story to their favorite stories list or their story alerts list, or tagged it for their C2s. Usually I'd take the time to send out a thank you message to you all, but my Internet is broken beyond all repair. Seriously, I was ravaged by an onslaught of bastard-ass viruses. I'm posting this from a public computer, just because I wanted to get this to you all. So, to everyone who I haven't gotten to reply to yet, thank you all so much and I'll try to answer all your reviews as soon as I get my beloved 'Net back.

Until then though!

Ariaeris~


	3. Haunted by Nothings

_**Ardent Argent**_

_Chapter 3: Haunted by Nothings_

_Because you are in control of your life. Don't ever forget that. You are what you are because of the conscious and subconscious choices you have made._

_- Barbara Hall_

* * *

"Look at everything!" Harry exclaimed breathlessly, dancing from storefront to shop window and examining the goods offered there before running back to the two werewolves and reporting what he had discovered.

Fenrir obediently took a quick glance around the small town they had wandered into, snorting disdainfully at the frightened looks they were receiving. "I don't see anything special."

Harry, in a whirl of ivory silk, spun to face him. "That's because you are too used to all of this," he said, waving a hard around.

"Tell me about it," Fenrir muttered inaudibly, sneering as a group of beggar children were passed by without a single glance their way. Inconspicuously, he tossed them a few sickles, ignoring their whispered thanks in favor of avoiding Harry's radiant smile.

"Used to it?" Garm asked, blushing slightly as Harry turned his bright grin on him.

"Did you like my meadow?" Harry asked in return, and Garm cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"Of course I did!" Garm exclaimed, eyes sparkling with awe. "I've never seen anything like it!"

"So you liked it because it was so different?" Harry said lightly, skipping backwards as they group continued forward, drawing a few odd glances from some passing villagers.

"I suppose so," Garm confirmed, and Harry nodded sagely.

"That same reason is why this place seems so wonderful to me." Harry sighed and spun in a slow circle, inhaling deeply. "I've never been to somewhere like this before and all the things I've never seen before seem so amazing!"

"You must have Seen a village like this before," Garm argued, and Fenrir hit him lightly on the back of the head.

"Alpha!" Garm yipped, gingerly touching the painful area.

"Perhaps you were never taught this, but secrets are things that are not meant to be casually spoken about where anyone could hear them," Fenrir snarled quietly.

"Aw, don't be too tough on him, Fenra," Harry sighed, hugging Garm's arm to his chest. "If something bad would have happened, I would have interfered."

"I thought the future was immutable?" Fenrir said, ignoring his newest nickname.

"It is, but if something bad was going to happen which would have lead to the dissolution of the future I Foresaw, then naturally it would have been necessary for me to interfere so that the future I Saw would be the present that Will Be." Harry smiled cheerfully as Fenrir pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Whatever," Fenrir grunted, glaring viciously at a trio of women who were staring at them in confusion. There shrieks of fear instantly put him in a better mood.

"Such a bully," Harry chided. He turned to Garm, pouting playfully. "Isn't Fenra such a bully?"

Garm froze, looking like a deer in the headlights. He nervously glanced at Fenrir, whose lip was curled, revealing an incredibly large and sharp incisor. "…No?"

Harry cried out in despair, and Fenrir nodded approvingly. Harry released the younger werewolf's arm with a huff, storming away towards a bakery. The two men watched him stalk off, and Garm shook his head fondly.

"He's a lot more childish than I expected," he remarked, and Fenrir crossed his arms over his chest.

"Like you're any different. You keep fawning over him."

Garm blushed slightly and shook his head, sending his flyaway black hair into his eyes. "No I'm not!"

Fenrir glanced at him incredulously, and Garm's blush darkened. "Okay, maybe a little bit," Garm admitted, rubbing his shoulder guiltily. "But I'm only seventeen; hormones, you know."

"Reign them in," Fenrir ordered. "It isn't that hard."

"Maybe not for a icicle like you," Garm muttered, "but some of us have actual needs."

"You'll only get hurt screwing around with the Seer," Fenrir said calmly, and Garm perked up at the Alpha's low words and felt the brush of a privacy ward come into existence with a twitch of Fenrir's hand. "I've seen it more than once; a poor sap gets himself infatuated with a seer's 'otherworldly beauty' and ends up heartbroken."

"You've gotta be exaggerating," Garm denied. "It's impossible to say that every time someone falls in love with a seer it ends in tragedy."

Fenrir huffed and turned to face the younger werewolf. "Just imagine trying to relate to someone who always knows exactly what's going to happen. You'll always be at the disadvantage because the seer will always have the upper hand. They'll know when you'll get together, how your life will unfold, even when it all ends. Who wants to be in a relationship with someone who knows exactly when you are going to die?"

Fenrir sighed at the stubborn look in Garm's dark eyes. "Who wants to be in love with someone who won't even fight to save your life if they think your death was meant to be?" Fenrir asked quietly, holding Garm's gaze, who refused to look away.

"I," Garm said loudly, hands clenched at his sides, "think you are being way too cynical."

Fenrir chuckled lowly. "I am?"

"Especially for someone who is supposed to fall in love with Harry," Garm crowed.

"I think you need to think about what you are saying a little bit more before you blurt it out," Fenrir mused. "I am supposed to fall in love with the seer? Okay, fine. But how does that guarantee me a happy ending? Just because I fall in love with him doesn't mean he'll fall in love with me."

"But-" Garm objected, but Fenrir ignored him and continued on.

"Besides, I thought we were talking about your unwise attraction to our quarry. Shouldn't you be pleased that I'm not going to pursue Harry?"

"That's just it!" Garm threw his hands up into the air. "Just because I'm attracted to Harry doesn't mean I'm going to pursue him either! You're the one interrogating me just because I'm acting my age. I'm the one who is actually concerned for you."

"I'm not so old that I need someone like you taking care of me," Fenrir scoffed.

"No, but you're acting like a child, which is exactly why you need my help." Garm gulped as Fenrir froze, knowing that he had crossed a line best left untouched. He swallowed his fear and continued on though. "If falling in love with Harry is inevitable, then why are you giving up before you've even started? You should be trying to make the best out of your situation! Just because there isn't the greatest precedent for relationships with seers doesn't mean you're absolutely doomed. You should at least try!"

"Garm," Fenrir said softly, and the teenage werewolf instantly quieted. "Go get Harry."

"Alpha?" Garm asked, and Fenrir slowly backed up into him and began walking him towards the bakery.

"In a moment, I am going to cancel the ward I set up," Fenrir said calmly, and Garm's eyes darkened as he caught the scent of deadly magic. "That will alert them to our presence. No doubt Harry is already ready to go, so I want you to grab him and run as far as you can. Do you remember how to summon me?"

Garm nodded shakily, too afraid to speak. He had had a few encounters with wizards before, but never so many and such strong ones too.

"If he resists, tell him that there are aurors trailing us and then if they capture him, he'll be turned into one of the Fettered."

"Fettered?" Garm whispered in confusion, and Fenrir nodded solemnly.

"He'll understand. Voldemort's base is to the east. Ideally, try and go in that direction. I'm sure these bastards have some idea where it is though, so that's probably where they'll be. Do not let Harry wield a wand, no matter how the bleak the situation," Fenrir ordered, and Garm faltered for a second.

"Why not, Alpha?" Garm questioned. "With how strong seers are, even if they aren't trained, they should be lethal on the battlefield."

"They are," Fenrir confirmed. "To everything in a who-knows-how-many mile radius. Seers are _too _powerful. They're not like the petty charlatans who pretend that they practice true divination; it takes an incredible amount of magic to peer even a second into the future, let alone weeks or years like a seer can."

"How strong is Harry then?" Garm asked, voice shaking with nervousness. "If he can see as many potential timelines as he claimed he could then…"

"See what I don't want you to let him get his hands on a wand?" Fenrir asked grimly. "The situation's bad enough without having to deal with a walking bomb just waiting to go off."

"I understand." Fenrir chanced a look back at the other werewolf. Garm's face was pale white, but his eyes were a cold amber. Fenrir could sense the wolf raging just under Garm's skin and he nodded in satisfaction. Garm would defend the seer, even until the end.

"Just one last thing," Fenrir said, exhaling harshly as a man with a long white beard Apparated not even twenty feet away. He swore mentally; at this distance, he could probably dodge any spell that the old man cast, but any closer…

"Is that Dumbledore!?" Garm gasped incredulously.

"Focus!" Fenrir snapped. "If you find yourself with out any recourse left, then go to Ottery St. Catchpole. One of the Dark Lord's plants resides there. I will go there as well as soon as I shake off this group. Do you understand?"

Garm was silent for a long moment before he took a shaky step backwards, edging towards the bakery. He smiled weakly. "Don't die, Alpha. I'm sure Harry would be very disappointed in you."

Fenrir laughed lowly, tensing as Dumbledore's sharp gaze slowly swept over the village, examining every nook and cranny. He didn't know what caused the Leader of the Light to come to this backwater town, but he knew he'd make him rue the decision if it was the last thing he ever did.

"I'll be sure to keep safe," Fenrir said mirthfully, feeling his bloodlust rise as he caught sight of Lupin by Dumbledore's side. It must have been his lucky day. "Go. Now!"

The ward was dropped and Fenrir watched as Dumbledore's icy blue gaze snapped to him, only to widen at the dark curse that hurtled towards him. A quick flick of his wrist and an unfortunate auror fell in a flash of green light.

He really did hate magic; it took the fun out of everything, but he was a pragmatist, and there was no way in hell that he was making it out of this little scuffle alive if he used brute strength alone. He kept an eye on the defensive contingent of Light warriors, only fully focusing on the fight once he saw a white and black blur sprint through the village's gates and out towards the woods. Dumbledore noticed the blur too, but Fenrir brought the old warlock's attention back to him with a quick burst of Fiendfyre.

"Greyback," Dumbledore greeted neutrally, and Fenrir snarled loudly, watching in glee as most of the group flinched back. Ah, the joys of frightening the soon to be departed. "Why are you here?"

"I could ask the same of you," Fenrir said smoothly, relishing the group's shocked looks. It was so fun setting people off guard when he didn't act like the rabid animal image he had cultivated for himself. Him, a mangy, feral child-hunter who served as a grunt for the Dark Lord? _Honestly. _He was just a blood-crazy murderer.

Fenrir smirked cruelly. "But I don't think I care much for your answer."

Three quick bursts of orange light were sent flying his way, and the weak shield he managed to erect crumpled under the assault. He rubbed a hand roughly over his cheek, surprised to feel the wound mending itself already and leaving behind a thin scar. From the looks on the Light side's faces, his rapid regeneration caught them by surprise as well.

"This," Fenrir said slowly, watching as the last of the panicked villagers ran screaming out of the town. Even the beggar children had been scooped up and brought to safety, and that fact alone convinced Fenrir that it was time to get serious. Thick tendrils of dark fire streamed out of his rarely used ash-wood wand, slowly igniting the wooden houses surrounding the group and spreading quickly.

Fenrir's grin stretched impossibly, baring his fangs for all to see.

"Will be fun."

* * *

…I did another Wikipedia dump on Old Norse mythology. I think my brain is broken from the sheer quantity of the things I've learned. Seriously, there is just _so much!_

Anyway, some questions were answered, more were raised, and we got a little bit of characterization for our trio. And look! Dumbledore and Lupin! I wonder what they're up to…

And only I know! Mwahaha!

As always, thank you to everyone who has reviewed and all that good stuff, especially those who wished me well concerning my Internet issues. They're still not fixed, but after the holidays have passed I won't have to worry about college applications anymore, so I'll try to start replying to everyone once again. You all don't know how guilty it makes me to not be able to thank you all individually, so I hope a great, big thank you will suffice for now!

Anyway, I hope everyone is enjoying the holidays so far, and I wish you all a happy new year. 2010, woot!

Ariaeris~


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